


it worked out

by kuill



Category: MapleStory
Genre: Demon AU, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2020-07-16 18:46:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19937578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuill/pseuds/kuill
Summary: “So what do demons do in their free time? I don’t imagine you go to work, or to till any fields… Do demons have any books?”Eunwol thought for a while. “I suppose, if one were inclined to read.”“Do demons have a library?”“I will bring you a book if I find one,” promised Eunwol.Freud laughed suddenly, which surprised Eunwol. "Sorry," he said, "This must be quite a frustrating conversation."Eunwol didn’t mind. In many ways, it was a nice reprieve.--SELF INDULGENT AU where Eunwol is a demon and Freud is a human. This is a story about purpose, and reasons, and promises.and also I use the writing style I'm most comfortable with and also oh my god did you guys see the latest Korea MS update there was some CHOICE freunwol i couldn't stop thinking about these good boys and this au happened and essentially i am absolutely on fire these boys are so soft and deserve the world.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> no idea when / how often i'll be updating / what plot is going on please treat this like a drabble kind of, because i haven't properly planned the arcs for this story, basically as you read please remember this story is a big fat self indulgent 'i want it ah fuck it i'll make it'

“What are you?” 

The voice belonged to a human, one of the many things that had no business in the forests of Elin.  The innocent soul was hunching over amidst the waxy leaves, so comically trying to stay unseen in his fiery red tunic. 

“A demon,” Eunwol replied evenly.

That made the young man pull back with a breathy “Oh, it talks.”

“So do you." 

The human straightened. His hair was brown, like the wood of Leafre trees.

“You’re injured,” said the human. He trodded closer. He was shorter than Eunwol expected.

Perhaps this was for the best, Eunwol thought. His time had come, the game had gone stale.

The human crouched down and reached out. 

“Make it quick,” said Eunwol.

That gave the human pause. “Make what quick?”

It took a second for the pieces to click. The human shook his head  _ no  _ \-- and his hands, and almost his entire frame --  _ nonono. _

“I'm not a demonhunter,” said the human. “You're bleeding, I just want to look at your wound. It might be infected.”

Eunwol could not smell any iron on him other than the clasp around the shell of his ear. No poison, no holy magic. He smelled like a lot of things, actually, none of which were distinctly human.

Eunwol pulled himself to his feet. His hind legs could barely hold his weight. 

The human gaped at his towering form, then his eyes followed the trail of brackish blood running down Eunwol's legs, his heavy tail, staining his night-hued fur. 

Even when he breathed out and into the pain he couldn't stop a tendril of acrid smoke leaking from his jaws.

With great effort he hauled himself forward, following the human's trail the way he came -- his strange human and not-human scent, broken twigs, footprints in the damp soil.

“Where are we going?” asked the human after he had caught up.

“Somewhere safer.”

“Good idea,” said the human, and pointed. “My place is that way, hopefully we’ll get there before dark.”

“You need not worry about the dark,” he said, amused. “Also, thank you for offering me aid.”

  
  
Quite oblivious to the rites of exchange the human gave his name freely and asked for nothing in return. Freud, he was called, named after a scholar from a distant land whom, ironically, the man did not respect.

“Eunwol,” said Freud in surprise. He pronounced it flawlessly. “The smell of rain on the wind.”

“A friend gave me that name a long time ago.”

Freud did not probe further, and Eunwol could not help feeling relieved.

They stopped by a small, sleepy village and Freud collected his horse. The mare only gave Eunwol a disinterested flick of one ear. 

_ “You let him ride?” _ Eunwol rumbled. 

The mare harrumphed. Eunwol looked at Freud trying valiantly to pretend he wasn't put off by not understanding them.

_ “I see.” _

Daylight was fast fading as they finally came to Freud's house. It was a modest stone house and looked to be made with amateur hands, filled with musty books, and countless animals and critters.

Freud caught the look on Eunwol's face. “Yeah, sorry. There are quite a few residents here… I'm just fostering them until they're strong enough to leave.”

The grass in the front yard was kept long -- perhaps it wasn't kept at all -- and Eunwol sank thankfully down on it as soon as he could. 

His lay his head down on the grass. He was exhausted. The human was right, his wound  _ was _ infected, as it'd been for the better part of a month. Demons were hard to kill, but Eunwol could be determined if he wanted to be. 

The human knelt by his side.

“Go ahead,” said Eunwol, after a while. 

Freud buried his fingers in the matted black fur. “So soft…” With careful touches he started to part it, section by section, inspecting the hide beneath. “There's blood everywhere.”

“Some demons are opportunistic,” said Eunwol. “I did not want to give them the satisfaction.”

“A-ah, I see. Did they do anything—” 

He was cut short by an involuntary hiss of smoke. 

“Does it hurt? Here? No… What about here?”

Eunwol growled harsh and sharp at the back of his throat and Freud jerked back. 

“Sorry! Sorry, sorry… Here? Here’s fine… and here?”

“Yessss.”

Freud’s touches were much more gentle from then on, sifting through Eunwol's fur and picking out whatever didn't belong. Clumps of dried blood, scabs, bits of bone, angry knots of rough fur. 

It had been a while since Eunwol had left the darkness of Elin forest, and the sunlight was a comfort even with how meagre it was. Freud had begun humming, and fireflies were starting to come out. 

Eunwol felt his eyelids droop. 

The sun was rising gently over the horizon when Eunwol next awoke. He lifted his head. All was still. 

A brown blanket slipped down onto the grass beside him. 

His hind legs had been bound with clean bandages. They were stained a faint yellow and smelled like iodine. 

Though they were still weak, he was relieved he could stand without shaking. He grasped the blanket between his fangs as carefully as he could and headed for the house.

The puppy dozing on the front porch didn't wake as he lumbered past. It was missing its front paw.

He looked into the house. It was exactly as chaotic as he expected. Books and parchment on every available surface, and they smelled like they came from very distant lands. 

Hunched over his table, and fast asleep, was Freud. It took a moment to realise he wasn't seated on a chair but on a pile of dogeared books.

Lifting the wooden latch with his magic was child’s play. Eunwol needed to lower his head and fold back his ears so they wouldn't scrape the rafters. He stepped in to drape the blanket around Freud's shoulders.

The human sniffed and curled into himself more, finally dropping the quill he had been loosely holding. Eunwol caught it with his magic before it left a wet stain on his neatly written notes, and returned it to its inkpot.

Freud continued his slumber undisturbed.

The sun was high when the door to the house slammed open, sending animals ricocheting in all directions with various offended sounds. Freud was in the doorway, looking harried, but calmed immediately when he saw Eunwol lying in the grass, paws crossed atop each other.

“I thought you’d gone,” said Freud. He looked sheepish. “You can't go. Yet. Not until the infection properly heals.”

“How long will that be?”

“I have no idea,” chirped Freud, sounding strangely pleased.

Eunwol huffed and lay his head back down. 

Freud came and sat by him, still in the red tunic he'd fallen asleep in last night. His hair was mussed up with sleep, disobedient and wild. 

His eyes, Eunwol finally realised, were the most beautiful shade of blue.

Freud said, “So what are you? As in, species wise. Fox? Wolf? A mix? Uh, what’re they called, — a coywolf?”

Eunwol raised his eyebrows.

“See, I haven't seen any creature with such a thick coat. Does it shed in summer? Change colors in winter? And if it does then why are your pawpads pink? Creatures that need to store heat have black pads, you know. And those long ears must lose heat so quick. Is that thermally efficient?”

“I have no idea,” said Eunwol, echoing Freud’s words. He added, “Perhaps.”

“What about the rest of your family? Are they like that too? Your species.” Eunwol didn't reply and Freud hurriedly went on, “Am I wrong? I… imagine there must be lineages even amongst demonkind.”

Eunwol shook his head. Freud gave his outstretched paws a small pat. 

“And anyway, you won’t have to stay here long. I daresay I’m skilled enough so it won’t hurt, erm, much. You’ll be up and about in no time, promise.” 

Eunwol remained silent, leaving Freud to kick his legs back and lean up to look at the passing clouds. 

“So what do demons do in their free time? I don’t imagine you go to work, or to till any fields… Do demons have any books?”

Eunwol thought for a while. “I suppose, if one were inclined to read.”

“Are they written in commonspeak or is there a special script you use? Runes? Or — oh, do demons have a library?”

“I will bring you a book if I find one,” promised Eunwol.

Freud laughed suddenly. It startled Eunwol, making his ears prick up.

“Sorry,” grinned Freud. “I realise this must be quite frustrating conversation.”

“Inquisitive is your character,” said Eunwol.

“Not wrong. People always call me rambly because I always end up sidetracked, I tend to do that a lot, especially if you ask me to lecture without preparation…” Freud clicked his tongue. “There I go again, typical.”

Eunwol didn’t mind. In many ways, it was a nice reprieve.

“I meant to ask — What’re you going to do? After you’re recovered.”

Eunwol flicked one of his ears. Freud was staring.

“You know. Any plans? Unfinished plans? Future ones?”

“Hardly. In fact on several occasions,” confessed Eunwol, “I think it would have been better if you never found me.”

That made the human sit up. A blade of grass stuck out from his tunic. “What? Why?”

Eunwol shrugged. 

Freud smiled, and Eunwol could tell there was something behind it, though he could not figure out what. 

“Ah… I see.” 

“There is no need to fret,” said Eunwol, “the lack does not impair me.”

“That’s good to hear.” 

The human scratched his arm and leaned down again. His leg leaned now on Eunwol’s tail, and he seemed quite unawares. 

“Why don’t you stay here? With me. And, well, and the rest of the… flock.” 

Freud craned his neck up to look at Eunwol, a childlike grin on his face. 

“Since you have nothing to do anyway, and I haven’t had a proper talking partner in what feels like  _ centuries.” _

Eunwol tilted his head. Freud didn’t know what centuries felt like. 

“I would hate to impose.”

“You can’t be any less obtrusive than one of the raccoons I tried to help, it was  _ way _ back, my clothes smelled funny for months. And it’ll be fun! Do you like cooking?”

“Do you?”

“It’s the slightly less deadly version of potion-making, what’s not to like?” Freud sat up again, unconsciously nudging Eunwol’s tail out of the way. “I could show you how to make broth. Think there’s some dried veal in the larder…”

“Sure,” said Eunwol.

He wasn’t expecting the look at Freud cast his way. It felt like being touched by a shard of purest glass, unyielding and acute. 

“And in the meantime,” said Freud, not unkindly, “Maybe you’ll find something else of value here.”

Eunwol felt compelled to nod and say, “And I will search.”

That made Freud laugh again. His laugh was such a pleasing sound.

“Good,” he said, dusting the grass off his trousers, “I’ll call you when it’s time for lunch, okay?”

Freud waved and disappeared back behind the ajar wooden door, leaving Eunwol to study the patch of flattened grass Freud left behind for a while. Then he lowered his head back down, and rested. 


	2. Chapter 2

“Do you think life has a purpose?” 

They were, as they had been for the past few days, lying on the grass in the sun. A short walk away from Freud’s house stood a dead tree, the old wood white as sin. On its heavy, low hanging branches, Freud was reading a book with his legs swinging carelessly beneath him. 

“Perhaps.”

Eunwol lay curled around the trunk, eyes half closed. 

“Why?”

“Existence has never once asked for permission.” 

Freud tilted his head. “So what if we demand a reason? Do you think we’d find one?”

_ You always say the most interesting things,  _ Freud told him the other day as they were contemplating the shapes of this same barren tree. Eunwol had since come to associate it with the hollowness of things best not thought about. 

“It doesn’t matter what one asks.” 

“What if we search? Would we find reason in existence?”

Eunwol thought about it, and then thought about it harder. 

“Do you think it’s worth the search?” Freud went on. 

Eunwol looked up and into Freud’s blue eyes. They reminded him of an ocean, deep and bottomless and vast. 

“Do the answers to these questions have value to you?”

“Mm… I think so.”

“Then yes,” said Eunwol. “All things are driven by value, and by cost. If you see it has value, you will pay any cost to attain it. This is the law of the world.”

“Ah,” said Freud. 

They watched the blue sky, the rolling clouds, and listened to the trilling birds, the oblivious crickets.

“You don't agree with this rule,” said Freud.

Eunwol said, after a long pause. “Some things cost too much.”

“What did you lose?” asked Freud. 

“I think I was human, once. Long before this dimension came to be.”

“What were you trying to protect?” asked Freud. 

Eunwol looked at him sharply. 

“That’s what one does, right?” said Freud, with another one of his odd smiles. “One gives up great things to protect the things they love.”

He’d clambered off his branch and come to stand beside him. His tunic smelled like sap and wood.

“I had a friend, I don’t remember her name, or how she looks like. I only remember her scent, like a flower at night.”

“She must’ve been important to you.”

“She wasn’t,” said Eunwol. “But she gave up something for me nonetheless.”

He remembered — how on that mournful day, she had wept herself hoarse, and the sky had wept with her.

“I cannot recall… Too many have given things up for me. The guilt became too much to bear.” 

The cicadas cried and cried.

Freud sat beside him, a hand on Eunwol’s forearm, rubbing soothing circles into his dark fur. 

In exchange, Eunwol made a low rumble of content. 

“Doesn’t that mean they valued you?” asked Freud, gently. Eunwol stopped purring. “They saw something in you, and wanted you to be—"

“No,” said Eunwol. Freud’s hand stilled, just briefly. “No,” he said again, more calmly, “They were wrong.”

Freud didn’t have anything to say to that.

He lowered his head to the grass again, watching a little worm nibbling on a wildflower. The grass whispered, and the breeze rolled meekly across his thick fur, and paper rustled as Freud removed a leather journal from his jacket. The human splayed the book open across his lap, and gazed sightlessly at the pages.

“Did you regret it?” Freud asked, after a while. 

“I had no reason to turn the deal down.”

_ The deal. _ Freud straightened. 

“So the legends were real,” he said, “People who spoke to the Shade and had their humanity ripped from them, and then were turned into monsters. But you’re not…”

“I always thought myself rather empty, so there wasn’t much to take,” said Eunwol, meaning it as a joke, “in some ways this is an improvement.” 

“And in others?” 

“What makes you so certain there’s more?” asked Eunwol, trying to be deadpan, even though he could feel his ears unconsciously pulling back. 

“Issues always run deeper than meets the eye.” Freud said. “And you’re kind of giving that away yourself, aren’t you?”

Eunwol sighed. Freud tried and failed to hide a little smirk of triumph.

“Demons don’t run on the rules of this world. Time does not kill us. Only wounds, and magic. But it is too much… time is demanding when you’re alone, and I have grown tired.” 

Eunwol rolled onto his side. He didn’t mean it as an invitation, but Freud crawled close and leaned against the nook of his shoulder nonetheless. He sank against Eunwol’s fur with a contented sigh. Eunwol could hardly believe the fearless audacity of this human. 

“Well,” said Freud, his voice muffled by fur, “Just for the record, becoming demon turned you into an excellent cushion.”

Eunwol snorted and this time Freud snickered childishly. 

“That’s a reason to stay awhile more, hmm?”

“I suppose,” said Eunwol. 

Smiling, Freud shook his head, and opened his book again.

“Sorry,” Eunwol said abruptly. 

“What for?” asked Freud, surprised.

Eunwol hesitated. “All… all  _ that.” _ He gestured vaguely with one paw. “I don’t usually… mm.”

Freud just laughed. 

“You baffle me,” said Eunwol. 

“As do you,” smiled Freud. “Thanks for trusting me.”

There was nothing to thank him for, thought Eunwol, not for burdens like these. 

Eunwol could not understand.

He heard the harried footsteps through the undergrowth before he saw Freud. Along with the scent of something strange in the air. 

He was on his feet in seconds, hackles raised.

“Eunwol! Eunwol, look—” 

Freud skidded to a halt past the last line of trees. 

_ Safe. _

Freud said, “You’re still hurt! Lie down!”

“Where were you?” asked Eunwol.

“Exploring,” said Freud, walking over. He held up a squirming creature in his hands. “I found a dragon.”

“Return it,” said Eunwol immediately. “Dragons are temperamental.” 

“It wasn’t in a nest, just sitting amidst some shell fragments, all alone. I think it’s abandoned.”

“Unlikely. Something must’ve happened to its tribe.” 

“Mrr,” said the dragon, blinking watery, golden eyes. Freud melted, Eunwol glared harder.

“Can we keep it?” said Freud, hugging the lizard to his chest. “Just until it’s old enough to go.”

“It’s alone. It’ll die without others of its kind.” 

Eunwol poked his nose against the dragon’s scaly belly, trying to pick up the scent of blood, or stray magic — nothing. 

“So we have to find its parents!” chirped Freud, “We get to go on a quest! I love quests.”

“There will be no such thing, and it will do nothing in repayment — Freud.”

“It likes you!”

Eunwol tugged, the dragon fastened its claws tighter around his muzzle and nose, delighted. 

_ “Freud.  _ He’s not letting go.” 

“Wonder what we should name it,” grinned Freud, carefully disentangling the dragon’s small talons. Eunwol finally shook himself free, licking at the sore patch on his lips. 

“Mrrrr,” said the dragon. 

“It already has a name,” said Eunwol. “It’s called Mir.”

“That’s a lovely name,” said Freud. “You feeling okay, buddy?”

“Mrrr,” said Mir. 

“It doesn’t matter,” said Eunwol to the dragon. “Your kind are dangerous.” To Freud, “We have to let him fend for himself.”

“But you said he’d die alone! And I can’t  _ not _ help it, Eunwol. Look at it—him.” 

The dragon belched. What a stench. Eunwol wrinkled his nose. Freud, however, found it very cute. 

“So it’s settled! Once you’re all healed, we’ll go look for its parents.”

“There is no  _ we,” _ said Eunwol, turning to lead Freud back to his house.

Freud cut in front of him, blue eyes as wide and beseeching as his dragon’s.

“Can you come? Please?” he asked in a small voice, “I would love your company.”

Eunwol sighed again, louder this time. 

“Thank you,” said Freud, breaking into a grin.

“You are thoroughly insufferable.”

“I have been told.” Freud bounced the dragon in his arms. “I bet Patches would love to play with you.”

“Mrrr,” said Mir.

“You are not allowed to eat the dog,” said Eunwol firmly.

“Mrrr?”

“No.”

“You hungry? What do you want for lunch, Mir? I’ve got some stew going, you can have that if it hasn’t already turned black.” 

“Mrrr.”

“I don’t like elk,” said Eunwol. 

“I’ll apportion some for him, Eunwol, don’t worry.”

  


They finally threaded through the last of the forest. Freud’s little house came into view. His three-legged puppy was already racing lopsidedly around the yard, barking at the top of her lungs. Mir tumbled out of Freud’s grip and waddled over, tiny wings flapping behind it. 

Eunwol couldn’t do anything but watch them start a raucous game of tag. Freud sighed happily. 

“Don’t sulk,” said Freud, leaning against him. 

“I am not sulking.”

“You are,” said Freud. His voice softened. “More importantly, I needed an excuse. Or as you’d say, a reason.” 

Eunwol gave him a sidelong look. “For what?” 

“To leave the house, and have you follow.” 

Eunwol was silent.

“It’s a law, isn't it? The law of the world,” said Freud.

Freud was not wrong.

Then, Eunwol realised, “You mean, all the weeks you spent foraging in Leafre forest, all along you were looking for —”

“Maybe,” singsonged Freud.

Eunwol rumbled in exasperation. “You could have simply asked.” 

Freud just smiled at him. 

“Anyway.” 

The human pulled him close and rubbed under his chin. Despite himself, Eunwol felt the tension leave him. Freud pressed their foreheads together, just for a moment, but it made Eunwol’s throat tighten. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” said Freud, pulling away. “I’m really, really glad you’re here. Thank you.”

Eunwol blinked slowly.

Freud smiled again, then headed back to the house, followed by Patches, then followed by Mir, and then followed by the smell of charred stew. 

Eunwol gazed at the door. 

He was trying. Truly, he was. But try as he might he just could not understand. 

Was he as indecipherable as this, too, when he was human? 

A yelp emanated from the house, then the sound of a clay bowl breaking. “Patches, no!” Freud’s muffled laughter floated out of the house.

“Leave the shards, or you’ll cut your fingers again,” said Eunwol, pulling himself up the stairs into the house. 

“I won't this time!—Ow.” 

There wasn’t much he could do for Freud in exchange for his inexplicable actions, but the little things he knew how to do, he was determined to do well. 

On the other hand, Freud didn’t seem to need reasons to do what he did. He simply… was. He was as free-spirited as a bird on the wing, as the sun rippling across a tinkling brook.

Eunwol wanted to know how that felt. Just for a little while. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so the story hook is located in chapter 2, because i wasnt planning to continue but in the end i did, and i realised chapter 1 didnt have a hook so it is delayed fhsljdsdhsks


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know i talked about a hook last chapter but this chapter is 100% indulgent and doesnt further the plot but it furthers my burning freunwol thirst so here it is

"Hello," Freud said, "Good afternoon! Not often we get visitors here. How can I help you?"

"It's just me."

For a long moment it seemed like Freud would stay confused. 

"Eunwol?" Freud finally gasped, childlike wonder blooming over his face. "But, but you're…"

Eunwol shifted uncomfortably. 

"Do I look fine?" 

"More than!" said Freud. He scrubbed a hand across his face. 

"Are you feeling alright?" said Eunwol, concerned, "You look a little--"

"I'm fine! Very much fine." 

Freud laughed. Cleared his throat, cleared his throat again, and schooled himself.

"But, Eunwol… where did you get these?" 

"I found them," said Eunwol, letting Freud tuck the scarf around his neck, smooth out his dark hair with his fingers, and straighten out his tunic. 

"This looks like a new scarf. Hmm, yellow does have its appeal, I suppose… Were there plenty of other clothes there too?"

"Yes," said Eunwol. 

"All new?" 

"Yes." 

"Did you pay for it?" asked Freud. 

"Ah," said Eunwol. "I knew something was missing. It's been a while."

Freud leapt to his feet, still grinning his childish grin. "Of course… let me handle it." 

Freud patted around for his many hidden pockets, looking for some currency. 

Eunwol stooped to pick up a little pebble and held it out. 

He focused, and before long it had shed its dusty exterior for a golden, pristine one. 

Freud let out a sound like he had just lost all his air. 

"You can transmute materials?"

"I… I suppose--"

"You can't do that! Turn it back!" exclaimed Freud. 

"But I could," said Eunwol. 

"You shouldn't!" 

Slightly alarmed, Eunwol did. 

"What's wrong?"

"You shouldn't  _ make _ gold!"

"Why?"

"You'll cause the value of gold to decrease." 

"It's only a small nugget. It must be done, in exchange for clothes." 

Freud tapped his chin.

"You'll upset the balance of currency?" he finally said. 

"Ah." 

Eunwol dropped the pebble. There were things he was willing to do, but from experience, upset balances very rarely benefited anyone.

That made Freud laugh again. Eunwol tilted his head. 

"What?"

"Never you mind," smiled Freud. He held up a tattered coin pouch. "Ah, found it. Let's go and pay the shopkeep back."

  
  
  


The shopkeep was old. Eunwol watched Freud slowly place coin by coin into her palm. She counted the money, squinted at him, and counted it again before finally packing it away into the folds of her tunic. 

"Next time I will charge you extra," she scolded. 

Freud bowed at the waist. "It won't happen again, ma'am, promise." 

Eunwol blinked once, slowly. Her eyes were misted over with cataracts. If not for Freud telling her each item of clothing that had been taken, she would've stayed none the wiser. 

Freud nudged Eunwol's waist. 

"I apologise," said Eunwol. 

"The nerve of you young ones these days. Didn't your mother ever teach you some proper manners?" 

"He had a rough childhood," said Freud reassuringly, pushing Eunwol out the door. "Thank you again." 

"You gave her more than what that bit of gold was worth," said Eunwol, when they emerged into the sun. 

"It doesn't matter. Cost is cost." 

This was true. 

But still, Eunwol was used to equal trades. 

"I think," said Freud slowly, "We should get you reacquainted with human life before we embark on our grand adventure."

"It's just clothes," said Eunwol. 

"No harm in staying in this village a little more. And besides, the food's great." 

Freud took Eunwol's hand. 

"Come on." 

Freud led him through the bustling square, and Eunwol said nothing, even though the man's ears were just the slightest bit red. 

  
  
  
  


The halfling innkeeper looked delighted to see Freud. 

"It's been so long since we've seen you, boy! Come in, come in! The wards keep out the Rash just fine. Haven't had an invasion in months." 

"That's good to hear," said Freud, smiling. 

"Never gonna have their oversized footprints in my pantry again, thank transcendents." 

The halfling glanced at their linked hands. 

Freud turned bright red. 

Eunwol didn't realise Freud had already let go. He released Freud's hand, but it seemed like it was a little too late. 

Freud said, "Ah, Tio, this is my--"

"About time you got a girlfriend," said the innkeeper at the same time. "Afternoon, ma'am." 

_ "His _ name is Eunwol," said Freud firmly. 

"A boyfriend?" gasped the innkeeper. 

"Ah," said Freud, turning a deeper red. "Erm, I, he, uh…" 

"A-Ah." The innkeeper looked at Freud, a little chastised. "Sorry, it was rude of me to assume." 

For a second, nobody spoke. 

Eunwol said, "Good afternoon." He paused, thinking for a segue. "Freud likes your goose stew. Could we have some?" 

"A-Ahaha, certainly! Come in. Ah, what am I doing. Come in. Just so shocked to see Freud with a human for once, no disrespect meant." 

"None taken," said Freud, sounding a little deflated. 

"I mean, Leafre doesn't see many humans pass through here. But when Freud hangs around with the flora and fauna more often than his own kind, you know, it's just a surprise is all." 

"It is," said Eunwol. 

They sat. None of the halflings seemed too perturbed by their presence, even if they were a head shorter. 

The innkeeper took their orders, mumbled about soup being overdone, and vanished. Freud buried his face in his hands. 

"I forget how many labels society uses," said Eunwol. "Did it upset you?" 

"No, it's not that." Freud scrubbed a hand over his face and tried to compose himself. 

"So he was right about you?" 

"Erm," Freud mumbled, and went on when Eunwol merely waited, "Well, he wasn't wrong…" 

"So why are you so bothered?" 

Freud chewed his lip, embarrassed. "I wasn't expecting to have a conversation like this today, is all." 

"I apologise," said Eunwol, sincere. 

"Don't! It's not your fault." 

They sat in silence for a while, listening to the other patrons' conversations. Eunwol let his mind drift. The town's flow of magic hadn't been tainted in decades. His mind was clear, for once. He enjoyed the rare feeling of it. 

"Why did you choose this?" 

Eunwol cracked open an eye. 

Freud gestured. "The long hair. The slim build. Not what people normally think about when they think about a guy."

"I didn't choose," said Eunwol. 

"Oh," said Freud, a little breathless. "So… this was how you looked like… before?"

Eunwol looked at his hands. They were callused, and covered in thin scars. He hadn't given them much thought before. 

"You look like you led a hard life," said Freud. 

"Is that so." Eunwol said. 

"Aren't you curious at all? About your past?" asked Freud. 

Eunwol thought for a while. 

"Well, I--"

"Hot stuff, coming through!" 

The innkeep deposited a heavy clay bowl of stew between them. They said their thanks, and the innkeep apologised hastily again, and said that the bread was on the house to make up for it, and told them to enjoy their meal before leaving. 

Freud was pink again as he reached for the loaf in its basket. 

"I haven't had bread in so long," said Eunwol to fill the silence.

Freud leaped at the conversation, just as Eunwol expected. 

"Oh yeah, it's grain, will you be okay with grain? Or do you need meat-- You can have more of the goose, take my share--"

"It's okay. Bread is fine." 

They ate. It was good. Still, Eunwol preferred Freud's cooking, as it was made with heart. 

Midway through the meal, one of the halfling servers did a double take at them and tapped on the table. 

Freud scrambled to wipe his mouth but the server merely frowned. At Eunwol. 

"Smoking isn't allowed on the premises, sirs. You'll have to do it outside."

"Smoking? But we aren't…" Freud turned to Eunwol. "Oh." 

Eunwol tilted his head. 

"I'll talk to him," said Freud with a pleasant smile. "Apologies." 

The server gave them another dirty look before retreating to a corner to watch. 

"We have to go," said Freud, shovelling some more stew into his mouth. 

"Why? We're not done." 

"I think your magic is running out," murmured Freud into the bowl, softly so nobody else could hear. 

Eunwol looked down. Finally, he caught sight of the wisp of smoke curling around his neck. 

"Oh," said Eunwol. 

More smoke escaped. He clapped his hands over his mouth. "I… I should--"

Freud nodded. "Go." 

Eunwol jerked out of the chair and didn't wait a second more. 

  
  
  
  
  


"Eunwol?" 

Leaves rustled before Freud's brown hair poked through the thick foliage. He was holding the remainder of the stew in a little clay pot, which he nearly dropped when he took in the sight before him. 

"Oh, Eunwol." 

"I couldn't undress in time… I tore the clothing," said Eunwol, ears flat. 

Freud deposited the clay bowl haphazardly on a bush and rushed over. Eunwol stumbled back as Freud knelt beside him. 

"Your legs. They're trembling." 

"I'll be alright with rest," said Eunwol. "But the clothes--" 

"We need to go home and redress your wounds." 

"You paid a lot for these clothes," said Eunwol. 

"Oh yeah, the clothes," said Freud. He grabbed the fabric scraps and shoved them into his various pockets. "Got them. Now let's go."

"But--" 

The protest was cut short as Freud grabbed Eunwol's face in his palms and stared into his eyes, thumb flicking away some dirt from his fur. 

Eunwol _breathed._

"Do you feel bad? About the waste."

Eunwol nodded. 

"Don't be," said Freud, "I'm just glad you're safe." 

He pulled away, and Eunwol forced himself to breathe. His heart twisted painfully in his ribcage. 

"Eunwol?" 

"I want to follow you," said Eunwol, "to the ends of this world." 

Freud just scratched his head. 

"That's an unexpected thing to say," said Freud, "But, erm, thank you, I guess. Now, enough chit chat! Let's go before it gets dark. And ah, tell me if you see any hornwort vines, we're running low, I wanted to stop by the herbalist's but we have no time to waste, and I think they grow around here this season, they should since the rains have been kind, they'll put out those little white roots and you'll know when you see them, they're thin and flat like noodles… Eunwol, you know I can feel you tugging." 

"Let me hold the pot." 

"Wait, don't-- not if you feel unwell--" 

"In this form, it's fine." 

It was a certain kind of magic as well, Eunwol thought, to feel the reassuring warmth of Freud's hand on his flank as they walked, and be told things he already knew about these ancient forests. 

Perhaps talking would take Freud's mind off his injury, and help him feel better. 

"Eunwol," said Freud suddenly. "You're brooding again."

"I am," said Eunwol, a little chastised. "I haven't ruminated in such fashion until I met you." 

Freud burst out laughing. A bird squawked indignantly in the distance. 

"I hope you don't mind," said Eunwol. 

"Of course not. I'll just leave you to your thoughts, if you prefer?" 

Eunwol thought for a while. "I like listening to you speak." 

"Well! Then let me tell you about the time the roof of my house collapsed, in the middle of the night no less… I think the Birk were on their yearly migration, and they were bleating about so loud I couldn't sleep…" 


End file.
